


Maybe I'm Crazy to Suppose

by theweightofmywords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, New Year's Eve, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, library dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Harry meet in the library every week. Most of the time, they sit in silence. But sometimes, they talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I'm Crazy to Suppose

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns these characters. Title taken from the song "What are You Doing New Year's Eve?"

Companionable silence. He wasn't sure how they reached that point, but seven months had passed since the Battle, and they were no longer enemies.

Maybe they weren't friends either, but every Thursday, they sat side by side in the public library and read books. Sometimes, they talked: about the weather, the books they were reading, about what they were going to have for dinner. Sometimes, Draco needed to ask Harry for help with understanding Muggle references. Harry was often useless, but together, they used context clues to figure it out.

Sometimes, they bumped elbows as they both slouched low in the oversized armchairs, their feet propped up on small tables. Draco made Harry smile sometimes, and sometimes, Draco felt his lips tug upwards into a grin. Maybe it was a smile.

They never talked about the war. About Hogwarts. About Voldemort and the ones they lost.

Maybe they weren't friends, but Draco liked their weekly meetings.

 _Don't look at me too closely,_ he thought, more than once. When Harry's jaw tensed or he closed a book abruptly, Draco felt his eyes turn downwards.

Was Draco ashamed? Maybe.

He wondered why Harry kept returning. Why come to a Muggle library and read books for free, when his Gringotts vaults were his for the taking? Why show up soaked from the rain when he could Apparate? Why spend time with Draco Malfoy when he is the Saviour of the Wizarding World?

For years, he thought he hated Harry Potter. He didn’t.

"It's Christmas Eve next week," Harry whispered. They had been reading for two hours by then.

Draco thought about Christmas at the Manor. This year, like the year prior, would be a farce: just his mother and himself, sipping wine and eating dinner as they sat at the far ends of the table. They would exchange presents and retire to their bedrooms, exhausted from having to pretend that Lucius' absence wasn't slowly breaking their hearts.

Draco cleared his throat.

"Oh? I suppose the library will be closed," he replied.

"Do you have any plans?" Harry asked.

Draco looked at him and shrugged. "Dinner with my mother. Maybe we'll visit the Parkinsons on Christmas Day."

He realized his mistake as soon as the name left his mouth. Harry gave a tight-lipped grin.

"Tell her I said hi," Harry said flatly.

Draco's eyes narrowed, his stomach twisting.

"I will," he replied, coolly, as he stared directly at Harry. An open challenge. Maybe they were friends, but they were enemies once too. Companionable silence was a new thing for Draco. Fighting felt familiar.

Harry held his stare for a beat, before looking down. Taking his glasses off, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared at Draco again, and Draco thought of sea glass and his mother's emeralds.

"You know, we're going to have to talk about it eventually," Harry mumbled.

"Talk about what," Draco muttered, though he knew the answer. He began picking the skin around his nails. He had started that habit after the war, along with staying up through the night, and drinking too much firewhisky when he was alone for too long.

"Draco--"

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't have to talk to you about anything, Potter? I don't owe you a conversation, or an apology. I don't ever have to talk about that part of my life ever again," Draco hissed. He wondered if he meant it.

"I don't want an apol-"

"Did you ever stop and think that I come here every week to avoid thinking? To avoid talking? This was _my_ place. I was coming here for months before you showed up and took it over, like you do with everything!"

Draco’s voice rose as he spoke. As he looked around, the other library patrons averted their gazes.

"Pansy's not proud of what she did. Neither am I. Is that what you want to hear? We did what we thought was best at the time. Do you know how hard it is to go against everything you've been told, your whole life? Do you think it's easy to rebel against your family and all it stands for?" Draco continued.

He knew he was oversharing, but he felt like a dam had broken. He had lost his composure, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to gain it back yet. He wanted to spit out all he had held inside. He wanted to apologize and make things right, but he knew his repayment would never end. Frustrated hopelessness tore at him.  

 _Merry Christmas, Potter! Is this what you wanted to see?_  he thought vindictively. 

"Draco," Harry murmured. Draco let out a shaky exhale as he stood up.

"Have a good Christmas," he said quietly as he slipped on his coat. He headed quickly towards the door, pushing down the urge to turn around. Maybe Harry would follow him, but Draco found it unlikely.

 _Is that what you want, Draco?_   _Do you want him to run after you?_

The cold air hit him, and he buried himself deeper in his coat. He was turning the corner when he heard footsteps fast approaching.

"Draco!"

He stopped walking and shook his head before turning around. Harry halted in front of him, his mouth open as if to speak.

"What?" Draco asked, his voice softer than he anticipated.

"I don't want to talk about it because I want an apology. I don't want an explanation. I’ll hear it if you want to, but you don’t owe me anything,” Harry replied.

Draco stared at the ground. He had run out of clever things to say. No biting remark at the ready, he merely shrugged.

“I just want to talk because I don't want to feel alone in it anymore," Harry explained. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Draco looked away, his eyes squinting in the winter sun. Harry grinned.

"I feel like you'd understand. Maybe I'm wrong," Harry mused. "But maybe I'm right. I hope I'm right."

Draco dug his hands deeper into his coat pockets.

"Why would you, of all people, feel alone?" Draco asked. In his mind, the question sounded spiteful, but when he said it out loud, standing in the cold with Harry Potter, it sounded desperately sad. Harry tilted his head and looked past Draco's shoulder. 

"They care about me, and I'm grateful. But sitting with you in silence every Thursday... Is it crazy that I like it?" Harry asked, laughing weakly.

"You've lost your mind," he murmured quietly as a smile formed on his face.

"Or maybe you've lost yours," Harry quipped. "So, we won't see each other next week. What about the following?"

"New Year's Eve? The library will probably be closed," Draco replied.

"You can come over," Harry offered. "I don't have any plans or anything, but I don't know. I mean, if you want-"

"We can sit on your couch in silence and read our books as the clock strikes twelve?" Draco teased.

Harry glanced towards the ground. Looking back up at Draco, his eyes looked bright.

"Yeah," he exclaimed.

They stared at each other, their hands buried in their coat pockets as they stood in the middle of the busy sidewalk, people bustling around them. Draco studied Harry's face. He was so open in his honesty, his eyes bold behind their fogged lenses. He found himself wondering what they looked like in the morning sun.

"Fine," Draco answered.

"Fine?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. Fine. I'll go to yours for New Year's Eve. I'll even bring champagne," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Harry smiled, and Draco felt himself smile back.


End file.
